


More Of You

by Matthew1972



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Beta Castiel (Supernatural), Consent, Demon Powers, Dom Meg Masters, Established Relationship, Kissing, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Multi, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Smut, Somnophilia, Sub Sam Winchester, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29107821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matthew1972/pseuds/Matthew1972
Summary: Meg joins her lovers Castiel and Sam to share another stolen night of passion. Demon, angel and human… a thorny negotiation of three, but one that suits them, at least until the morning comes. Meg knows better than to keep them, but she sure as hell knows how to lead them down the sinful path of pleasure. And if deep down she wants more of them? She will never tell a soul how hard she's fallen.
Relationships: Castiel/Meg Masters, Castiel/Meg Masters/Sam Winchester, Castiel/Sam Winchester, Meg Masters/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 10





	More Of You

A whisper in the night beckons for her attention. Two distant voices, which are casting a summoning spell as one. Angel and human; her men. Meg can feel their urgent need for closeness. Hear what neither Sam nor Castiel ever speak of in the light of day, but what they are admitting to her all the same in the dark of night. The love shared beyond any reason. For each other… sure… but they too desire her. Want her in a way no good soul should care for any demon such as herself.

Meg though doesn't hurry to answer the call. Not for the lack of wanting to be with them as well. Hell no, she can't wait to corrupt them further. To taint the brightness of their souls and have her wicked way with them… at least for the night. She prefers it to stalk them first. To circle the cabin in the woods in her cloud of black smoke form. To watch them kiss messily, hungrily, too adrenaline driven to wait for her arrival.

Tonight, they are all tongue and teeth. No finesse, only greedy hands and lips. Lewd sounds of pleasure that come pouring out of them without restraint. Sam rushes to rid Castiel from his suit, tie, and shirt. Their breathless, groaned pleas fast cut off by more hungry kisses. Torn, dirty flannels and muddied jeans hurriedly discarded to the floor as well. Underlayers to follow until there's no more fabric left to remove.

In his naked glory Sam is a sight for sore eyes to her. Meg admires the hunter from his head to his toes; his by arousal flushed skin pulled taut over long, hard muscles of pure strength. His chest as ever is blemished by the anti demon sigil tattoo, taunting her, but not. The black ink is no more than his plea to remain unviolated by possession and untainted but for the scars no one can see. Yet for his giant, almost dangerous appearance Meg takes note of how tender his calloused hands are as they wrap around Castiel, pulling him near by his pale buttocks.

Rock hard cocks align in what little space there's left between them. Meg can see how Sam curls his fingers even firmer around angled hip bones… anything not to lose the closeness. Castiel answers him with teasing hip rolls, and hands of equal possessive touches. A long stroke over Sam's spine ends not where his ass begins. Their by wing oil slick fingers instead seek out to play with his rim, dipping in but only in shallow brushes of promise and longing…

"Cas…"

Mindless with want, Sam wraps his right leg around Castiel, exposing his hole to the intimate exploration. Slowly… far too slowly… those two wicked, elegantly long fingers curl further inwards and upwards to narrow in to target. Oh hell! Meg can feel herself going wet in sympathy. For a Seraph to have such sinful hands as well as for him to be able to use his God-given features is as unfair as it is a blessing to those he uses them on. Meg knows the tease that Castiel can be. How eager he has been to learn from her when it comes to corrupting Sam, to have the hunter writhing, begging for more.

"Please. Need you."

The half-aborted sounds of pleasure coming from Sam are sinful by themselves. Hungry little whimpers of 'more' parted by the kisses, which he rains down along Castiel's jaw and throat to speak for how turned on he is. More and more Sam is becoming a needy mess. His always alert and clever brain are no longer capable of working overtime. Every sharp sense he has narrows in to the fingers that are playing with his prostate… and the other set that clings to his left hip to keep him from falling. Angelic strength alone is enough to ensure an anchor that Sam can trust upon.

Wasting no more time, Meg settles in her vessel, which for once is dressed to kill. Black laced thigh highs and a short skirt. Her long, dark curls are left free and wild. It doesn't matter to her that her host is a small one, because it is as feisty and resilient as she herself is. Yeah, she enjoys this one; almost as much as Castiel and Sam seem to.

Tonight too her appearance meets with a flash of angelic blue approval. She can feel Castiel brushing a tendril of inquiring grace over her, scenting her for any traces of other. Meg shivers with lust for what it means when he touches the inside of her left thigh unseen. Recognition, but so much more as well. Oh, how he is teasing her flesh! Wanting her even with his fingers burrowed deep in their human lover.

Drawn forth by the sight of her naked men, Meg walks closer on her high heels. The sound of them now too calls for Sam to notice her so wanted arrival. With eyes gone dark with lust he looks at her… blushing, bluntly open in his expression of desire for more closeness. For her to press up against him from behind. A temptation she doesn't resist. She's so much smaller in every sense of the flesh and yet she feels empowered by how he melts against her with a soft sigh of her name. "Meg."

"Missed me?"

Her drawl meets with a gasped, "Yeah."

"But Castiel is being _so good_ to you", she teases.

Glad for the pointed heels on her shoes Meg stands on her toes to kiss the skin between his shoulder blades. On her impulse of want she flicks out her tongue to tease it up his spine for as far as she can reach. His sweaty skin tastes perfect to her… salty, human. The heat of his naked body seeps in through her flimsy top and it sends a tremor of lust into her core. Even better to her is how she can feel the wrist and back of Castiel's hand moving against her abdomen and in between the firm ass cheeks of Sam. To know from having watched what its fingers are doing, touching, what they are curling up against to unravel the writhing man in between them. She trails kisses down Sam's broad back. Marvels at the strength of him, smiling to herself on her next breath, because right now there's no fight left in him. No danger to fear… and yet…

Oh, Meg has no illusions about what any of them are. How Castiel can smite the hell out of them both with the ease of the Seraph he is. How she in turn can dismiss the men by her side and throw them both through the air with nothing but a demonic thought. How despite of his but mortal strength Sam can think so fast on his feet that she knows better than to underestimate his gift for spells and magic, or his stubborn Winchester gene. But for all of this, Meg is still baffled by how with all these differences they have met in the middle. Equally damaged. Each one of them too afraid to be honest and call it love. This madness they are sharing? It's as thorny as it is beautiful.

None of her fears though have a place here tonight. Not when Sam reaches out behind him to pull her tighter against his overheated body. Less so when she can sense the faint flutter of wings moving around them. Within a blink of time gone by she's standing next to the king-sized bed, well… all three of them have landed there as they were. They've flown!

She looks up at Castiel in time to see his endearing blush appear then lifting from his cheeks. The soldier in him is prideful, smug, but the growing human awareness in him catches her unease at the flight. No, her demon self is not fond of being swept off her feet in the literal sense, but she is far too taken by Castiel to be angry with him for what he is. It is enough to thwack his bare thigh to chastise him and tell him that he's been forgiven at once… but… on one condition.

Staking her claim as the dominant partner in their unlikely triad, Meg pulls free from Sam. "Go on then, Clarence. Show us what you've got."

It's endearing to her how his eyes squint at her to express confusion, until Sam thrusts back down onto the slick fingers buried still in his ass. "Cas…", he pleads. Their pause shatters at once. Purpose tilts the world for Sam on his next breath. Meg watches on with delight while Castiel all but throws the hunter onto the large bed, atop the dark purple sheets and grey blanket. Back first, left open to the immediate onslaught of eager lips and hands. Sam is willing too to let in the hand that delves back in between those long, muscled legs, which he angles up by their knees to expose himself to Castiel.

Upon his silent invitation Castiel kneels into the space left for him. Bending over Sam, he latches his mouth onto a nipple. Sucks it hard, biting, licking, and caressing it with his tongue. Sam arches up to him. Rolls his hips too to get more of those wicked fingers, which are quick to refill his eager hole and strike home, and again, relentless in their assault. Back are his whimpered groans, the breathless pleas he's barely aware of making. Oh, he would so blush if he knew, but Meg isn't going to tell him. She loves the sounds too much to lose them… and she can see Castiel too rejoicing in how submissive Sam is deep down under all that male Winchester courage and pride.

Her men as always are moving so gracefully together. Meg perches on the table now, watching, ditching her panties to rub herself under her short skirt. Her cunt gone wet… hungry, but she wishes not yet to come. Wants to bask in the two beings on the bed and how Castiel keeps edging Sam, who goes untouched still. His cock gone an angry red, glistening with endless drops of pre-come, which slither down his thighs.

Sam reaches out to touch himself, unaware, but Meg is quick to react. One push of her powers is enough to pin him to the mattress and render him to the mercy of Castiel. "No, you don't", she puts words to her desire for him to submit. What she wants more than anything in this moment is to watch him come undone. To hear him beg for release.

"Meg… please…" His protest means nothing. She's seen the shiver of pure pleasure run down his spine and into his core. Can see how his frustration at being held put too comes with a rush of arousal. "I need…"

"Do you now?" Meg shares a smug look with Castiel to challenge him.

And their angel? Bless him, for he gets her need to tease while he also understands Sam in his urgency to get off. He chooses then how he wishes to please them both as well as himself. Almost with feline like grace Castiel leans down to flick the tip of his tongue out and over the beyond sensitive head of Sam's cock. A teasing drag of wet, enough to lick away the gathered drops of pre-come, at least until the next drop oozes out of that tiny opening.

Meg admires the torment of the soft teasing, the kisses trailed down every inch of hard cock. How they each are sending shivers of pure lust into Sam. That she has to strain her powers to keep him locked firm. All trembling thighs as he's being held open, bend at the knees, and recklessly exposed to the angel above him. Rendered unsure whether to arch up for more of that wicked tongue or to thrust down onto the fingers that Castiel is fucking him with. Both sensations are not enough for him to be set free… not yet… for he's being kept on the edge with deadly precision still.

But for all of his inhuman origin Castiel too isn't without sexual needs. Less so tonight. With a deep moan of want he slowly leans down further to suck Sam deeper inside of his mouth. One hard, thick inch at the time the delightful cock disappears from Meg's sight. There's not a pause of discomfort, because Castiel eases his throat around it in such a way that it never fails to both awe her and turn her on beyond reason.

Driven by Sam and his stunned gasp of helpless surrender, Meg pushes two of her fingers inside of herself. Oh hell! She can see it now how Castiel has all but swallowed Sam whole. How he's drooling around every hard inch of that swollen thickness, taking every shallow thrust Sam gives him with a groan of his own. Bobbing his head and sucking gently. Hollowed cheeks. Up for air… and happy to go back down, while he too continues to torment hidden from sight nerve endings with those long fingers of pure madness.

With each thrust Sam gets ripped apart further at the seams, looking beyond handsome to Meg as he loses himself to the mindless pleasure of being worshipped by touch. Sweat clings the ends of his hair gone wet to his by arousal flushed cheeks. His core arches up to Castiel. The sheets around him are a mess. His strong hands are fisting into them, useless in finding an anchor, but desperate too to surrender to wave upon wave of pure bliss. His broken voice whimpers to Castiel and Meg for mercy, yet also for more of what drives him insane with need. For once Sam goes completely uncensored. He is unable to hide his emotions and gone reckless desires alike. Unwilling to fight against the grip of a demon and the sensual whims of an angel. The raw lust stronger a force than the never forgotten pain of his past, the bad memories that Castiel is chasing out for the night.

Meg can almost taste how close Sam is. Hear it too in how his babbling turns to Enochian curses gone uncensored in the heat of the night. She too can see it in how everything in him tenses up to rise to the ultimate high. Feel it in how his almost forgotten and deep within buried demon blood pushes against her, seeking out how far he can push her. All that strength! But no, she refuses to yield to him. Wants what he has entrusted her with, his tainted self; knowing how she can give him pain and not take it too far, to that place where they can both rejoice in it. To where she can help Castiel push Sam ever further towards the inevitable high of highs… and beyond.

Ah, there it is! The somehow still abrupt shock of his release comes with a harsh cry of pure delight. With the utter depletion of tension in his glorious body. Meg can't help but keep her hold on Sam, needs to feel him riding out the still powerful tremors of his orgasm. Wave upon wave of it pulled from his prostate. Damned those fingers slicked by oil indeed! Ass muscles clench and let go, while semen fills that waiting mouth of kiss swollen and oh-so-eager lips. It arouses her even further how Castiel keeps milking Sam for every last drop, not shy to drink each one from his at last spend cock, which softens while it gets set free upon a whimper of 'too much'. Only when Sam is rendered utterly boneless and sated does Meg let go of her invisible grip on him.

* * *

No longer patient Meg approaches the bed. Her insides are aching now for the still hard as nails cock of Castiel. He who has so far ignored himself to please Sam… and who will next become her focus. Turned on she leaves her perch. One practised move and she discards the top from around her body. Her nipples harden in the cool air of the cabin. Relishing in the sensation of freedom, Meg too kicks off her shoes. She then stalks over to the bed on her by laced socks covered feet.

"Clarence", she drawls out her nickname for Castiel, her voice deliberately low until she's all but purring. With his attention drawn she crawls in behind him to press up her breasts against his naked back. To put emphasis on her needs she gently drags her nails up over his chest and nipples.

Her reward comes out in a stuttered sigh, "Meg." His delight shatters his earlier aura of dominance and control. Every inch of his spine fast arches towards her even as Castiel turns his head to look at her, eyes brimmed with lust and a fathomless depth of ever-present bewilderment. He is flustered, aroused, but no longer as innocent about sex as he once was. No, Castiel knows what he wants… and that, to her continued amazement, includes her.

"What? See something you want?"

Meg is never beyond teasing; knows the power her sarcasm holds over him. How he is one of but two beings to read her in ways that both scare and arouse her. Sam and Castiel are now her cause to fight for. And she? Well, she can hope that they will care for her still when her nature trips her up, because after so many centuries she can't help being a demon any more than they can help being what they are.

Amused by her flirting, Sam looks up, his expressive eyes almost entirely blown to black by lust filled pupils. He hasn't flinched at her silent intrusion on the bed… and yet, something inside of Sam is as always painfully aware of her presence; his demon blood. That which he's so scared of and yet which turns her on, aside from his stubborn need to squash it deep inside of him. If only he'd not be so afraid.

Oh, the things she can teach him, but it would mean that she has to reveal herself. Who she is beyond the name stolen from the host in which she first met Sam. What she knows about dark magic, lost faith and broken vows. As they say a woman scorned… but no, that version of her is long lost to the fires of hell. Meg rather prefers what and who she has become since. To have become powerful enough to seduce. Strong enough to escape her abusive masters. A demon out to fend for herself, alive, and one not doing so bad, far from it.

Hell, she has a naked Seraph in her arms, waiting to be allowed to fuck her. And Sam? His palms coming to caress her by lace covered knees show that he can't wait to watch them. How even though he feels baffled by his growing need to have her dominate them, to include her in his love for Castiel, he can't help himself. She too is why he orgasmed so hard that he's still high on it. His nod confirms to her that he is done fighting himself over wanting a demon to seduce both him and his lover.

Meg smiles at Sam in answer, sending him a wink to tease him about what is to come. This mess of emotions between them needs no further explanations. It is what it is. So far their triad thrives on pure, almost animalistic instincts; their need to feel alive and desired. Their love like a seductive whisper in the night that slowly spreads out into the daytime. A mutual respect found with the others. Her darkness that needs the light to balance it out. Her lovers' far too bright presences marked by scars, which seek something or someone to heal and care for. The three of them are misfits amongst their kind… yet somehow they've found understanding, a place to fit in, where least expected; with each other.

Encouraged by being watched, Meg reaches for her target, nestled in between dark curled hairs and muscled thighs. Where she knows Castiel wants her most. Her first brush over his aroused flesh drives a deep, shuddering moan from him. But before he can even respond by touching her too, she flicks out her tongue to caress the shell of his ear. "Be a good boy for me?" Meg fists his cock slowly, up and down in a sensual caress, marvelling in how hard he is for her. "Stay. Move only when and how I say."

"Yes."

His so typical curt, effective answer doesn't fool her. Castiel is aching to touch her. She can see and feel it in the tensing of his shoulders and back. How he arches himself up against her breasts. In the simmering of his grace underneath the flesh of his handsome, dishevelled looking vessel. From the way he clings to the sheets while she teases him for a while longer. Hands gone white knuckled almost. His breathing going harsh, far from angelic, human… if she didn't know better.

"Go on then… lie on your back, beside Sam", she orders him to go where she wants him. Watches as he does as told, quietly so, beautiful in his compliance. Unable to not touch him she trails her finger over his calf. "Legs closed." Even as she speaks, she crawls over him, her short skirt hitching up even further upon her thighs. Followed by two pairs of intent eyes she hovers above Castiel. Her body open, willing, but her wet cunt left unseen. Meg knows that they are unaware of how naked she is underneath… but she gives nothing away until she is ready to.

Slowly, as slow as she can bear it, she sinks herself down around his cock. Her hand is enough to guide him inside of her hungry core. Two stunned gazes enough to urge her on. The sensation of his arousal feels like a perfect slide of hard flesh over her wet walls. Her inner nerve endings are fast coming to life in the best way possible. She arches her back to take even more of him… one inch at the time until he can give her no more. The fullness enough to settle the first of her hunger. She stills then, teasingly bending down to kiss him. Hard, wet, until they are both breathless with it. Meg then takes her hand in his to guide it in between them to where their bodies have melted together. "Touch me", she orders.

Obedient without pause, Castiel rubs two of his fingers over her clit, wasting no time to find it. His muscle memory alone is enough to drive her mad with but a few strokes. To drive her into rolling up her hips to slam her body back down onto him, and again. The need to fuck herself fast grows stronger than her earlier desire to tease him. Still, she dictates the rhythm by which she rides him at a steady pace. Her cunt pulsing around him, taking him, milking him as she goes beyond wet with want. Oh, does he feel good!

Her thighs burn, but Meg doesn't care about the discomfort. She can only feel the heat between her legs. Watch as she's undoing Castiel at the same time. Loves how he curls his other hand into the sheets, clawing at the fabric in order not to break his promise to her to only move as she tells him to. His hips though are thrusting up, shallow, needy, his flushed body incapable of staying still. The blue of his eyes gets shut out, because he can't do anything more than ride out the pleasure that she bestows upon him.

To draw his attention Meg brushes her hands over his abdomen and chest. She pinches a nipple… amused when he cries out her name, his body arching up like she'd pulled a string… an obviously sensitive one. Filing his sweet reaction to memory, she smirks, happy to have his wide-eyed shock of pleasure aimed up at her. "Watch me fuck you."

"Yes…"

Pleased to hear how broken with want his voice is, Meg arches her back into her next thrust. Fuck, it feels good how deep he moves within her lithe body now. How well her host can take his cock, the greed of her desires matched by its flesh. The use of demonic strength ensures that she can ride Castiel on, firmer, harder, until she can see him struggling not to yield to her just yet. Now that won't do!

Two strong minds, but Meg never plays fair. She clenches around him now. Ensures that she's tight around his cock each time when she takes him deep inside of her core. Flesh brushes over flesh. The pulse of his arousal undeniably fast. He's hard beyond reason. Desperate as he fingers her clit in merciless and deadly precise strokes. So close that she can taste it. She fights on though. Pushes him harder by playing with his oh-so-sensitive nipples and relishing in the gasped whines she pulls from him.

Her rhythm shatters and makes way for reckless thrusts, but her resolve grows stronger. She can see how Sam watches them with rapt fascination. How he reaches out to entwine his hand with Castiel for support. "Cas…" Sam half whispers, curling up closer to them to help her unravel their angel. "I will catch you. Let go. Come deep inside of her… I want to see it."

Oh hell! There it is; her blessed victory. Underneath her, between her folded legs, Castiel coils up tight, only to let go deep inside of her. Warm, wet semen fills her up good. The sensation of his surrender enough to crash her over the edge as well. Meg whimpers in her pleasure, while long fingers milk her clit for every last wave of ecstasy he can give to her. The world is no longer sharp when she collapses atop of his sweaty, handsome body… exhausted… sated, for now.

* * *

For a while Meg lies nestled in between her lovers, held safe, even when she needs not their protection. The softer sides of them guarded no more. In here they are not shy to caress her skin as the pleasure inside of her sated vessel settles down to a simmer. This is a feeling of contentment she doesn't allow herself amongst any other beings. Trust. Feelings. Such scary things to her, at least they are without these two around to unearth her true self more with each encounter. Oh, they are dangerous all right…

But they too are hopelessly devoted as lovers. Meg now too takes great pleasure in watching them in the aftermath. How Castiel cards his long fingers through Sam's hair. Brushing it, petting their human, or perhaps he too can do no more than inhabit this moment, this night that may well be their last one spent alive. For all her fears and disbelief, Meg knows the true danger lies in wait outside this stupidly romantic cabin. Beyond the fire in the hearth, the mess of clothes on the floor and the salt lines laid out on the windowsills. The wall of logs enhanced with magic is but a thin barrier wrapped around them. It can't last… won't… because of what they are.

A leg comes to rest in between hers. Sam lies snoring softly for a while, tensing up every now and then, until Castiel presses two fingertips gently against his forehead to send the nightmares away. Meg doesn't disturb the night by talking. Merely gives Sam the break he needs to recover enough to rise against her thigh, aroused by her not quite wake-up call of teasing kisses. Aroused too by her teasing fingers. She loves how his mind isn't with them just yet. That she can brush him unchallenged, unwatched, and feel the cock in her hand harden with his pleasure.

Silently Castiel slips away from behind her… only to walk around the bed. Over Sam's body she meets his eyes. Meg wastes no time then to haul their hunter closer to her, grabbing a hold of his left knee to wrap his leg around her lithe body and allow Castiel more space. She smiles at the grateful nod he sends her way before he gets back into the bed to spoon up behind Sam as she'd expected him to. Oh, someone is going to get one hell of a wakeup call!

A flutter of grace pulses close by her. Meg need not see it to sense where it's going. Can feel Sam shiver with lust in his sleep and his hips arching away from her to seek out the source of its intimate touch. A hand brushes over hers, and the knee she's keeping locked around her. Castiel looks at her then, his eyes even more blue than usual. She can see how his lips are brushing over the shell of Sam's ear and hear how he vows to him, "Trust us… we've got you."

"Cas…"

No, they can't fool a hunter. Not completely. Sam may not be fully awake yet, but he can be within the blink of an eye, because his senses are always by far too alert, even when he is asleep. He always knows where he is. Whom he is with. The promise Castiel spoke in his ear isn't one made lightly. Meg can see it for the request of consent that it is. Feels how Sam takes a deliberate, deep breath to let go of his tenuous hold on waking up, telling himself to let go, daring to in her arms… or maybe because of how from behind him Castiel caresses his spine in slow strokes. How he goes lower and lower on each one as Sam melts into the touch.

Deep breaths soon return to soft snores. Castiel hurries not to pleasure Sam. Their moment stretches out and it builds into something almost too tender for Meg to bear. Her demon self hasn't known patience much. She though has lived for enough centuries to not bother much with minutes or even hours anymore. The long game isn't a hard one to understand for her. Castiel is clearly building up to something good… and what is even better is that he has Sam's permission to show her what for. More and more it amuses her how those long fingers she has cursed so often are back to preparing Sam for what is to come sooner rather than later. Sliding into his eager, relaxed body, unchallenged… wanted beyond reason.

Sam mumbles in his sleepy state now, tiny mewls of want. Enochian words spoken too softly and cut off into nothingness for any being to translate. Meg however catches the jest of them. Can imagine what they mean from how Castiel answers Sam by lining up his cock for his sweet, slick hole. One thrust and he slides slowly but steadily into his waiting body.

Meg sees how Sam curls one hand into the pillow, hear how he gasps for breath, and feel how he never even tenses over being breached. She watches his face. His eyes flutter yet remain closed. Where she half expects for him to wake up, he does no more than curl up tighter to her, cock gone hard where it brushes up to her thigh. Tip gone wet, leaking against the flesh underneath her never discarded short skirt.

Another flutter of a move. Is he rocking his hips against her? No, she finds instead that it is Castiel, who can't stay entirely still. Who fucks their hunter with shallow, slow thrusts. Never enough to wake Sam… not yet. But hell if that rock hard erection of his isn't alive! She can feel it seeking out friction against her thigh. Arching up to where she too is going wet, because watching Sam go needy in his sleep is beyond hot.

What strikes Meg most of all is how this is Sam - of all people - _allowing_ Castiel the privilege of catching him off guard. To allow her the chance to watch him come undone in such a manner. His eyes may remain closed, but she can see into him. Feel how the demon blood in his veins pulses with the pure hunger for arousal and so much more. How Sam needs this deep down. To not be scared for one night in his harsh life of monsters and hunting. And never once does Castiel let him down. His grace bubbles close underneath the surface. Enough so for Sam to know what he is… or rather whom he is. Meg can scent it now. How said pulse is uniquely Castiel by temperature and smell alone. When she too closes her eyes she knows it is him and none other of Heaven's soldiers. Can Sam too?

"Cas… please". Now his eyes do flutter. Meg lies stunned as they open, full of abrupt awareness, but far from afraid. Only love brims inside as they lock upon hers. Emotions both sharp and guarded. Sam may be as stunned as she is, but he too is strong, born painfully human. "Meg, want you too." His warm, large hand brushes over her cheek for emphasis.

"Do you now?"

But even as she teases him, Meg moves in his arms until he can push his cock into her cunt, hard and unyielding; the fullness he offers her an instant pleasure of the best kind. His fingers keep her locked for a moment. Trembling, clinging to her small body. She can see the desire in his eyes. How he needs to steady himself so that he won't lose his load at the mere feeling of her tight, slippery heat. Oh, Meg knows how much she's teasing him. Can't help herself from clenching and going lax around him. The rewarding groan of his pleasure is all she needs to seek out his throat to suck a mark into his flesh. Meg relishes in that only his shirt collar may be able to hide it… or at least no more than a small part of it.

His cry of pained desire as so often brings out the worst in her. Moving her mouth to the shell of his ear, she whispers to him, "Sam Winchester, not such a good boy after all. Not by any means. Lying with a demon… getting defiled by her…" Rather than allow him to move inside of her she uses her power to keep him trapped in between Castiel and her. "… loving every second of it…"

Meg takes another second to feel out the slow rhythm Castiel has set to doing Sam apart. Slowly she rolls her hips counter to the maddening pace, while his knowing eyes full of lust seek out hers over their hunter's broad shoulder. That ever-present thrum of grace, his, no longer feels wrong. No, her power dares now to fall into tune with it. Side by side they are working together to please their far from fragile human lover as one. Both holding onto him as Castiel pushes into him and as she takes him deep inside of her oh-so-tainted vessel. The carnal pleasure of being full is even better for how the beings in her bed are embracing all of her beyond the flesh too.

Widening her legs a little further, Meg thrusts up against Sam. The slide of his arousal inside of her drives her insane with want, so she keeps building up the pace… glad for how she needs no order to have Castiel following her greedy demand. She is happy too to leave Sam enough freedom to kiss her senseless. For her to steal his tongue and breath in turn. His palms still clinging to her hips, no doubt leaving bruises. Harder… she needs him to go deeper… and maybe she's praying for Castiel to hear her.

"Sam…"

The deep grunt of pleasure however is not hers, but his. Castiel wastes no time to drive himself faster into Sam. Deep rolls of his strong thighs that are also rocking her world in the best way possible. Meg need not to keep her eyes open to feel how he's forgotten about the maddening patience of before. Can hear that tell-tale whimper of how close he is. How hard he must be clinging to Sam's narrow hips as he pounds into him to make love with such a reckless passion that there can't be any mistake about why he's still on Earth. Why he may never return to Heaven.

Mid-kiss Sam is tearing his lips away from her mouth, lost in the pure pleasure of getting taken apart on both ends at once. A cry of their names… mingled… followed by a curse… and he tenses up like a bow string between them, arching in his orgasm. Meg then clenches around him, milking him, and shivering with the pure bliss of feeling herself crash over the edge as a result. Oh fuck, but he feels too damned good! The sensation of his surrender too tastes beyond fine to her inner demonic self. She takes great pleasure from the way that she can feel his blood pulse against her hold in him then snap at being released upon his orgasm, in fact it is rather an adrenaline rush for her and already she is craving more… but perhaps she won't insist it of him today. No, he will be hers again another night.

Basking still in the haze of her pleasure, while Sam goes soft within her, she can feel him shudder harshly so for a second time. "Sam!" The hoarse cry from Castiel is enough for Meg to realise that the hunter has taken their angel over the edge as well. No doubt when he locked him tight into his pert ass. She has come to know Sam and the strength of his devotion as a submissive bed partner too intimately so by now. The heat of him… and how he will push his body into pleasing a lover… are too powerful a force to deny. Hell, she's never managed to fight it for long, so how can Castiel?

* * *

Dawn breaks into her awareness, dull and misty, accompanied by the sound of rain… and the shower running. Meg can't help but yawn. The soreness in her body is not something she wants healed yet. She hasn't quite slept, demons rarely do, but for once she dared to laze the remainder of the night away. Does she have to face the morning? The inevitable parting from her men? Unwilling to further entertain the unpleasant thought, Meg listens in on the half-whispered conversation held under the shower, behind the not quite closed door.

"I can use my grace to…" Castiel breaks off his protest on a deep moan of pleasure.

Unable to see them, Meg imagines Sam kissing their angel breathless under the spray of hot water. Their naked, wet bodies slick with soap as the moose of a human being washes them both. This is one of the rare moments that Castiel offers himself up to but a mere mortal soul… his lover. Not taking charge, but following the lead of Sam, someone supposed to be far beneath him, or so most of Heaven kind would dismiss the scarred man in his arms. This though isn't about what they are and even less so about who they are told to be. No, it's about nothing more than embracing the morning after.

"No need…", Sam mumbles in between kisses. "…because this? Feeling you still… is the good kind of soreness."

Meg wonders if Sam is blushing, thinks he might be.

"I see." Hesitance in the answering voice betrays that as so often Castiel is puzzled by human behaviour and yet his next words too speak for the grasp he has on knowing Sam. "For you the pain adds to the memory of the mind… yet we are washing the oil, sweat and semen away…"

"Yeah. I'd prefer it to wear clean clothes, don't you?"

"But I could have…"

Another protest gets cut short to a deep rumble of pleasure. "I know. A snap of your fingers and all that, but isn't this _much_ more enjoyable?" Sam barely speaks above the sound of the running shower, but Meg can hear how he's flirting with Castiel. Imagines him using his large, grabby hands too to make his point…

Castiel hums in his answer, or rather he seems to be purring now, lower by the second, "It is… I… oh… your fingers…" Tiny gasps of gone shameless enjoyment come rumbling out of Castiel to bounce off the tiled walls around him. "Please… don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it", Sam grins.

The moment stretches out further. Pleas and Enochian whispers too soft for her to hear fill the no doubt absent space between the two lovers. Meg pictures Sam raining down kisses where he can. Knows how clingy his hands are on morning afters, how afraid he is in his mind to lose what he has. Why Castiel is humouring him where she can't deal with those intense needs of theirs, because deep down their seraph too needs the affirmation. To know and feel for himself that their mortal hunter is still alive.

"Sam!" A sudden loud gasp of an almost curse has Meg smiling.

"Careful, or you will wake our mistress, and she may punish you for it." Oh, Sam is definitely teasing Castiel…

… who knows better. "Demons… don't… require… sleep", he manages to push out.

Where she feels tempted to see what Sam is doing to unravel Castiel so the truth comes out in a quiet order of, "We'd better not tempt fate too far. Close your eyes, so I can wash out the shampoo."

Ah, so Castiel has a weakness, an oh-so-human one? Meg can't help but be amused by it and feeling disgusted at the same time. Can her lovers be any cheesier? But despite of her demonic self she notes down a few possibilities for their future encounters. Will Castiel enjoy it if she pulls on his hair? She can't wait to find out… but she knows too that the shower cubicle is crowded as it is… and so she bides her time. Burrowing deeper into her lair, which still smells sinfully of their spilled seed and sweat, Meg waits for them to rejoin her and say goodbye, for now…

But they are well stretching the private moment for two. Soft murmurs turning to silence… and so she tunes out to contemplate her choices for the world outside of the cabin. If she plays her cards right she can get past Crowley and his minions. Be freed of him at last. A whisper here and a nudge there, with the Winchesters. Should she team up with them? Dare she?

She needs to play it careful though, more than, because they won't see everything her way. They rarely do. What though can she do about it? There's nothing wrong with a few good souls paying the price for the many… for her… is there? Old her would never have hesitated. Yet here she is. Has she already fallen into the good of Sam? Because she can hear him reason with her how every innocent should be protected. Meg shudders to think that after all this time she's growing a conscience again.

The smallest of sounds of shuffling feet startles Meg from her inner turmoil. Castiel! His lush lips kiss her temple, drawing Meg out of her cocoon of sheets to look up to the one who dares to burst her lazy bubble. She smiles at the sight of so much warm skin lying bared to the world. Only his modesty is hidden by a white towel, which Sam must have wrapped around his hips. Had the hunter dried him off as well? Or at least had he shown their angel how to?

"Morning", Castiel greets her with a smile of fondness on his face.

Meg can't help but grumble, even though she too is smiling, because hell doesn't the sight of him always tempt her to tease him for the fun of it. "So it is."

"We have to go", Castiel states, bluntly and unapologetic.

They've agreed from the start that they won't do awkward morning afters. No excuses or sorrow. With their lives being what they are their dangerous paths are bound to part every damned time when they've somehow managed to have a night for themselves. As such Castiel drops the towel from around his waist. One snap of his fingers… and he's back to his dressed self. His handsome shape wrapped up in that unflattering and yet stupidly fitting beige trench coat, crooked tie and two-piece suit of the stuffy kind. Meg blinks up at him, both annoyed and comforted at once. This is the soldier of Heaven going back to work. All is right with the world… even when she is standing at crossroads on her future and he is - so far - none the wiser about how close they may all be to lose this. Them.

But where her dilemma lies so close to the surface the sight of Sam in nothing but a black, smart dress shirt is too much of a distraction. Hell, but it is hiding exactly nothing! Not that she mourns the torn flannels left behind in the trash. No, whatever monster had torn them? She blesses its claws for what they've given her. With hungry eyes Meg admires his pert ass, long legs and the teasing glimpse of his balls and limp cock. They each are begging of her to be touched… or at least she likes to think so. Meg slips from the sheets with ease then to follow her first impulse. Her hands find his skin before he can put on the black jeans he'd retrieved from his duffel bag. "Not yet, you don't", she tells him, while she teases his balls from behind.

"Meg… I can't. Too soon." He sighs as she thumbs his perineum and rim on a long stroke.

She wraps her arm around his abdomen to keep him near her. "Did we break you?"

Sam merely shakes his head, blushing shyly, because in spite of his lack of visual arousal she can feel him arching towards her touch. To how he melts around her by spit slicked up thumb… how she can ease said digit beyond his still loose rim, meeting with next to no resistance. "Meg…", he lets out a gasped warning of her name as a last protest. The hunter in him doesn't want to submit to a demon, worse to let on to how much he enjoys it, yet every last fibre of Sam is wired to do so, past pains be damned.

"You want something to remember me by, don't you, Sam?"

Driven by want, Sam rolls back his hips onto her thumb, getting lost to her touch enough so to forget his place. The absence of his spoken answer however amuses her. Settles the ache in her heart. His trust is why she can't lie to him any longer. Why despite her demonic nature she is going to rethink her plans until no sacrifice of the innocent is asked…

"Don't you?" Meg adds another slick finger to working him open.

Her question lingers until Castiel moves to stand before Sam. His gaze squints at their gone breathless lover, as if to read everything that he dare not say out loud. Castiel nods even as he steadies Sam on knees gone a little weak because of her touch. "He does", he confirms for them both.

"Good boy." Meg lets go of her hold.

At her praise Sam blushes even more so, arousal and want colouring his unshaven cheeks pink. He though hides his reaction by leaning his head onto the shoulder of the angel before him. Taken by his show of submission, Meg wastes no time to use her power of telekinesis on retrieving her latest gift for her men from the pocket of her abandoned leather jacket. A tug of her mind and the cool glass toy drifts over to land on her outstretched palm. Smiling to herself, she feels how smooth and elegant in shape it is. Oh, it will fit Sam well.

Meg startles then smiles at the brush of cool, long fingers over hers. Tentative in his curiosity of the to him so far foreign object Castiel explores the anal plug which is lying in her hand. A tilt of his head betrays how he has no clue about what it's for and he is wondering why she can't wait to use it. Yet he, like her, seems to be taken in by the shiny see-through glass and the red swirl that runs from its round bulged tip through its slim curved form and into the deep red base. Rather than answer the obvious question Meg mouths her order for him to _"watch"._

Encouraged by the attention upon her actions, Meg retreats her thumb from Sam with a promise of, "Wait for it." From the pocket of Castiel's trench coat she retrieves the small tube of lube she's stowed away there on their last encounter. Another amused squint is aimed at her, but she merely shrugs at Castiel. What can she say? That she wants her men ready whenever she wants them to be? It's not like they don't know this about her anyway, because she's never made a secret of it.

Once turned slick she brushes the head of the toy over Sam to tease his rim with the cool promise. No more than a little pressure and the muscle gives way. Slowly… ever so slowly… she sinks the smooth, round bulge deeper into him to where it tapers out. With fascination she watches how Sam quivers around it. Hungry… wantonly… whimpering as she arches the toy so that it presses up against his prostate, and again. He's trembling now. Begging for more, "Please…"

A valiant twitch of his cock… but no, this is not about getting him off. Meg wants only to be remembered. Done being a tease she sinks the anal plug deeper into Sam. A steady push up and in until the base of deep red glass settles firmly in the cleft of his ass. No more pale glass to be seen, for its invisible inches are now buried to the full within him to keep him open, horny. She can see his cock pushing up underneath his black shirt, and she reaches for it to fuel his arousal a little further. "Thought so", she drawls. "You wear it well."

"Yeah, he does." The appreciative comment though does not come from Sam. Instead Castiel is the one to reach out to the bottom of the plug to grasp a full understanding of what Meg has done to their lover, how full he must feel.

"Cas…"

"No, he won't touch you or it." Meg denies them both the pleasure of touch. "At least not until you are both back at your bunker. You will be a good boy for us, won't you, Sam? Get dressed. Drive home… like this, feeling every little bump in the road move the glass inside of your sore ass, remembering tonight, wanting to be touched, but denied. But if you can make it there without any incident then the reward is yours."

Sam turns around to glare at her, flushed as he is, but he stands down at her smirk. "What reward?"

"Well… Castiel of course", Meg winks at their angel. "He can have his way with you at your bunker and only there."

Nodding, Castiel looks between them, bemused now by what her order for them entails. Eager to learn more of why Sam seeks out his pleasure from the sweet torment of being given and denied at the same time. This too is why he, like Meg, watches Sam put on his boxer briefs and jeans while knowing that he's feeling every move he's making… even when he's not letting on… yet.

Soon though he won't be able to hide his suffering. Meg imagines him squirming in the driver's seat, hard as hell, with the plug pressing up against his most sensitive spots. Oh, he'll feel her gift for hours to come! And Castiel? He may curse her too, because of how he has to keep his hands away from Sam while he is sitting right next to him, wanting, begging with those needy whimpers of his. Is her gift a curse? Probably… but hell, she is a demon, and so she has a reputation to maintain.

With her challenge set Meg snaps up her discarded clothes from the floor. In but seconds her dignity and modesty are restored. Her shoes and coat too are easily slipped back on. As much as she wants to go for that drive with her men, even if only to add fuel onto their predicament, Meg knows better than to tempt fate. For as long as the King of Hell is after her ass she has to lay low and keep away from the ones she'll hate seeing dragged down with her. So no, she won't stay, can't… and so instead of listening to her heart Meg heads for the cabin front door with a feigned aura of confidence.

"What of you?" Castiel calls after her.

"Next time, Clarence. Sam…"

Meg promises them no more and no less than what she dares to have for herself. One last leer over her men… and she's gone… for now.

THE END


End file.
